


Hot Cocoa & Scotch

by misxnthrope_jpg



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Drinking, Fluff, I worked too long on it to care anymore, Ice-Skating, M/M, Neck Kissing, Secret Relationship, This whole thing is just a hot mess but have it anyways, night out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:30:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misxnthrope_jpg/pseuds/misxnthrope_jpg
Summary: Will and Stephen are in a lovely relationship. Catch is, they're not exactly out to their friends yet. Christmas Eve with the lads gets a little hectic.





	Hot Cocoa & Scotch

December 24th. Christmas Eve. You know. That giant commercialized holiday everybody fancies? Snow, trees, lights, carols, something about Jesus? I can't even lie that I enjoy the season. Surprise, surprise. I'm not some heartless Grinch! 

The day starts like any other really. I slowly slip into consciousness as the sound of banging penetrates my ears. 

"Wake up, you lazy sod! Your mates are at the door." I can faintly hear Gee's voice over the knocking. Her words register in my head and I start to wonder why my friends would be up so early? I roll onto my stomach and gaze at my alarm clock, only to find the numbers "14:00" glaring back at me. 

Well. I've already wasted half the day. 

"Will!" Another shout comes from the other side of my door and I quickly hop out of bed and rush to my closet in hopes of finding something to wear. 

"I'm up! Jesus! Let them in." The thumping promptly stops after this. To my luck, I find a nifty pair of ripped jeans and a black hoodie. While I toss these garments onto my mattress I hear Gee's voice once again. 

"I'm not going to be back until next week so don't trash the place." I come back to my senses and remember that she had previously told me about her plans to visit her parents over the holidays. 

"A'right" I reply, running a hand through my quiff. _It won't be so bad having the house all to myself._ Another idea occurs to me and I grin to myself. 

_I could have Stephen over._

I shake my head to rid myself of the —although pleasant, rather unnecessary—thought and continue on my quest to prepare for the day. I exit my room and find Alex and Fraser standing in the lounge. It takes one moment for them to scan me over and another for Alex to sigh, 

"Fucking hell, Will! It's Christmas Eve! What are you doing?" I can't help but laugh at Alex's utterly hopeless expression. 

"Being a lazy shit, that's what," Fraser chimes in, a smirk crossing his features. I shake my head at the two of them and wander into the bathroom. I hear Alex say something along the lines of "hasn't even showered!" before I shut the door behind me and do just that. 

It wasn't my fault, though. Name me one person who is able to get a good night's rest with the lingering memory of Stephen's dirty mouth on their mind. 

— — 

The bleak winter wind somehow manages to send shivers up my body, even through my jacket. Grey clouds obscure the sun from view and the blanket of snow crunches underneath my boots. It's nothing special really. Me, Alex and Fraser pass by the downtown shops and are headed towards a lovely cafe I frequent often. 

Oh. It seems I've spoken too soon, innit? The crowds of people slowly part until our little gang reaches the entrance to the coffee-shop. The sun reveals itself from in between the clouds. 

"Ste! How you've been mate?" Alex perks up, bringing him in for a friendly hug. Stephen returns the gesture and responds with a, 

"Yeah, I'm alright. How 'bout you lot?" A chorus of "good" and "alright"s erupts, and with the pleasantries finished the four of us enter the shop. I wait around a moment for Alex and Fraser to get ahead before approaching Stephen from behind. I place a hand on his back and whisper a cheeky "Happy Christmas" in his ear before pecking it affectionately. 

I watch him try to stifle his grin, unsuccessfully and his already rouge cheeks redder further. 

"Please not in front of them, Will," He says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. I want to hold them so badly. 

"How will I survive?" I sigh, and to my dismay, step away from Stephen as we join Alex and Fraser at their chosen table. 

Stephen is scared and I don't know what of. He's tried to explain to me, but I really don't understand. Does he really think that our friends will shame us for being together? Does he think people will find it weird that all these jokes we've gone on about were not jokes at all? I worry about him a lot because he worries too much about things that don't need to be worried about. 

I just don't want him to hurt himself. But, I won't disrespect him and out us just for my convenience. _I_ don't want to hurt him either. 

The table we claim is a small circular one against the left wall. Around it four seats reside and a lovely flower-vase rests in the center. I assume that when everyone else arrives they'll be seated at the table adjacent. I sit down next to Stephen and no one is surprised. 

"Guess we should be nice and wait until everyone else shows up before ordering, yeah?" Fraser says, taking off his coat. 

"Unfortunately so," Stephen exclaims, following in suite. It doesn't take long for a conversation to spark up between us three friends (plus one lover) and not long after does Laurence and Brian show up. James follows them in shortly after. As punishment for being the final one to show up, James is assigned the task of listing off all our orders to the barista. 

It's a laugh to watch him begin so confidently, only to stutter out the last few and forgetting one entirely. Stephen ends up having to join him at the counter and remind him, which is all too hilarious. 

When they return the group has calmed from the fit of chuckles, but this is only renewed when James makes a point of commenting: "I guess the maid industry isn't my thing, but I'm always open to other ideas." 

The beginning (or middle, I suppose) of the day goes smoothly. Stephen and James went up to collect our meals and we ate in comfortable chatter. Apparently, Laurence is to be visiting his family with his girlfriend over Christmas and Alex had nearly broken the kettle that morning—of which this story was told in a dramatic reading by Fraser. 

It didn't take me long to down my coffee and sandwich and give the conversation more of my attention. It's only when I feel a pair of eyes staring at me that I look over. Stephen is eyeing me with an expression most likely meant to convey something, but the effect is lost on me. His lips curve into a grin nonetheless and he simply shakes his head. 

"I need to take a wee. Be back," He says, standing and walking away. However, not before he subtly brushes his arm across my own. I force myself not to look back and instead focus on the tingles he left in my arm. 

_God, I'm completely infatuated with him._

"I actually think I need to head to the loo as well," I say before getting up myself. 

"Wouldn't expect any less, really. Quick shag with Stephen in that case?" I laugh at James' remark and reply with a quick, "You know the drill" before disappearing off to the lavatory. 

I spot Stephen as soon as I enter. He's bent over the sink, watching the water cascade over his hands. He glances up as the door shuts and smiles. The fact that I've put that smile there is enough to make me reciprocate the gesture. 

"What'd'ya want, Ste?" I ask, walking forward to lean against the wall next to the sink. There are two stalls nestled into the room along with the sink that Stephen is occupying. The man in question stares down at his hands, shuts off the tap and proceeds to look at me once more. He gives me a once-over and I feel my cheeks heating. 

"Well, everyone's talking about their plans for the holidays. Was wondering what you were up to?" The soft tone he uses is a direct contrast from the one he constantly uses in front of our mates. Boisterous, comedic lad turned meek. Something entirely reserved for me. My hand reaches up to rub the nape of my neck and I exhale in thought. 

"Not anything, really. Had plans, but they got tarnished... Told you 'bout that didn't I?" 

"Yeah... The whole vacation thing?" I laugh and nod slowly. I don't even want to get into it, but just know it was a disaster, "Well I'm glad you didn't anyway," Stephen starts, wiping his hands on his trousers. I watch him expectantly, "I mean, I'd fancy it if you'd come 'round mine for Christmas, you know?" 

Stephen finally takes his eyes off the ground and looks at me. He looks nervous, even though he has no right to be. Surely not around me. His cheeks are tinted, as they always tend to be, and his hair messily flopped over his forehead. He's just too pretty. How is that allowed? 

"Yeah. 'Course. I'd love that," I reply, stepping towards Stephen. He cracks a smile and I would kiss him right then if I didn't care about looking like a softie. Or maybe it was just because I know it would end with us mashing our faces together and that our mates would probably notice our blown eyes and swollen lips. 

The last thing I want to do is prove James right. 

So, instead, I take his hands in mine and press our foreheads together, "I can't wait," I murmur, rubbing the back of his hand with my thumb. Stephen responds with a small hum and that almost sends me over the edge but, fuck, I really can't let us have a make-out session in the coffee-house bathroom while our friends are just outside that door. 

It's then that the door opens — _oh the irony—_ and Stephen and I separate from each other faster than me apologizing for not getting a video up on time. 

"Oh." Brian stands in the doorway, eyebrows raised. He scans us over and clears his throat. In that moment I'm sure we look similar to two deer caught in headlights. "We're heading out now. Laurence has something planned." His eyes continue to flick between the two of us and I don't think I'd be able to comprehend Stephen's panic if I tried. 

"Yeah, yeah. Sounds alright," I answer. Brian stays still for another beat and then turns and walks away. I whip around to face Stephen, who is as pale as a ghost. My heart clenches at the sight and I squeeze his shoulder in hopes of providing some comfort. He lets out a shaky breath. "There's nothing to worry over. It'll be okay," I reassure him. 

I make quick haste in leaving the toilets, Stephen on my trail. When we approach the group, James lets out a mirth of laughter. 

"Guess I was right in that case? Tally one point for Marriott!" I force out a laugh and glance over at Brian. He doesn't seemed bothered. Isn't eyeing us suspiciously, but he isn't laughing at James' joke either. 

We've been so careful. What happened? 

I grab my jacket from the back of the chair and put it on. In no time the seven of us leave the shop and are heading towards a "mystery destination", as chosen by Laurence. We lapse into conversation, and as a distraction from recent events, I find myself joining in. However, I'm not oblivious to the man that hangs around the edge of the group with downcast eyes. 

— — 

"Don't be so cynical. It'll be fun!" 

"Fun as in fun for you lot to take the piss outta me. Nah mate, I'll pass." 

I watch on as Laurence attempts to persuade Brian into joining us in the activity he has chosen. That being ice-skating. The thought of Brian flailing out on the ice brings a grin to my lips and I don't bother stifling my chuckle. 

I'm sat next to Stephen on the bench, doing up the skates I've rented from the stand not far away. I keep "accidentally" brushing my arm against his, from which I'm rewarded the odd glare. 

In front of us lies the outdoor skating rink. Couples, friends and kids alike glide across the surface in the same direction. Few people rely on the outlying fence for support, but those who are, are being cheered on by their counterparts. Snow falls gently from the sky and I glance at the lights strung around the nearby trees. At sundown, the lights will flicker on and children will gawk, couples will sigh, friends will laugh and the solitary man will avert his eyes and set a brisker pace. 

"Will?" Stephen snaps me from my daze, setting his hand on my shoulder, "Y'alright?" I search his eyes and smile to myself. He's my reminder that I don't have to be that man anymore. He's my world. 

"Yes. I'm great." I reply. A laugh escapes Stephen and he nods towards the rink. 

"Gonna come join us then?" I peer over at the ice and notice that James and Fraser are already stood on the rink and are helping ease Alex onto the surface. Laurence stands behind him, looking over at Brian who stands against the fence not far away. He says something to him I can't hear. 

"Yeah, yeah." I say, using my sitting position as an excuse for Stephen to help me stand. My hand slots into his perfectly and I don't let go as we wander towards the entrance. 

It's when Stephen stiffens under my grip that I finally do let go. Laurence has stepped out onto the rink and Brian now has a perfect view of us. I keep forgetting! Fuck! I just want to hold my boyfriend's hand; why is that such a problem? 

I wobble slightly on my skates as I approach Brian, "Not joining us on the ice?" I ask. Friendly conversation. That's how this whole thing works. 

"Nah. Never hear the end of it, would I?" I laugh at this and shake my head. Probably not. I don't bother hiding my grin. "Exactly. I'm not stopping you now, though. Go off." I follow Brian's wandering eyes towards Stephen, who has placed himself onto the ice. He has his arms outstretched precariously, floating out towards the center. 

"Yeah," I say quickly. I waste no time in entering the arena myself. I've skated a few times before in my youth, so I am no stranger to the concept. It scares me watching Stephen drift towards the middle, knowing he'd be stranded and probably fall on his arse, so I figure that it'd make sense for any friend to help him along his way. I'd already noticed James and Fraser helping Alex stand after he fell on his back—albeit laughing all the while. 

From these valid calculations, it didn't seem out of the ordinary for me to skate up behind Stephen and wrap my arms around his torso. "Come on you filthy nonce. You can't make shortcuts towards the kids." I hear Stephen laugh beneath me and forge a smile onto my face. He falls against me and allows me to direct him into the sea of people circulating the rink. 

With my help, Stephen manages to stand upright once more, this time with more confidence. "Thanks, mate," He exclaims, looking back at me. I smile at him and mutter an "anytime" before we both start off together. 

It's awkward at first, not going to lie. Our arms kept bumping into each others and I almost slipped on a bump in the ice. Not to mention I was a little distracted by the fact that both Alex and James are now collapsed onto the rink while Fraser watches on, laughing like a maniac. I search the ice-rink for Laurence and find him on the other side of the oval. He's manoeuvring between the crowds, light on his feet. Might as well be a fucking fairy compared to us lot. 

Stephen and I continue to move along the surface, pausing to laugh at the train-wreck that is James and Alex before continuing around the oval. However, I find that the constant arm brushing is remarkably irritating. I could skate a small distance away from Stephen, of course, I could, but what if he fell? What if he started to stray towards the center again? There were too many risks that I didn't fancy taking. 

So I envelope Stephen's hand with my own. 

"Will!" Stephen hisses, though doesn't take his hand away. He glares at me and I chuckle at this. It's hard to take him seriously sometimes. 

"C'mon, Ste. Give me this one thing," I plead, pouting. Stephen sighs and looks away from me. 

"Fine. But if we get caught I'll have your neck, Lenney." He mutters. I grin at my success and gently swing our hands to the rhythm of my skates. 

It doesn't take Stephen long for him to snatch his hand back. In fact, we are just approaching the entrance when he does so. I furrow my brows at him and concentrate on not feeling hurt at this rejection. I keep having to remind myself it has nothing to do with me. Stephen loves me, and if he didn't then why would he be so hung up over this? 

Still hurts somehow. 

I spot Brian up by the fence, eyeing us with a nonchalant expression. I could never read Brian and fuck me if I'll ever be able to. No doubt that he's suspicious, though. He isn't thick. 

We pass him without a word. 

I let out a shaky laugh and drag my hand across my forehead, "Thought I was gonna explode, innit Ste? Fucking hell," I say, voicing my thoughts. Stephen is unresponsive and when I glance at him he's focusing intently on not running into anyone. His facial expression is closed off. "Hey. It's not the end of the world," I whisper, leaning down to look him in the eyes. He eventually meets my own and I put on a tight-lipped smile. Stephen sighs and rolls his eyes, slipping his hand back into mine. 

"I would tell you you're being an annoying cunt if you weren't my boyfriend." 

— — 

There were a few more incidents like that one. A few times with Laurence, who didn't seem to really notice and yet another with Brian. The next lap around, however, we noticed that he was missing from his post against the ridge of the ice. I wasn't necessarily complaining, but Stephen seemed concerned and by extension, I was concerned. 

It was around an hour later when Brian returned and volunteered the idea of everyone returning to mine, Alex and Fraser's flat for a regrouping before continuing on our night out. Everyone came to a consensus and we headed out. 

Here we are now. We were all in Alex and Fraser's flat originally until I made a quick excuse of: "Hey, Ste! Didn't you forget your scarf at mine the other night?" "Oh... Uh, yeah. I did." "Yeah, wanna come with me to grab it?" "Sure." 

Fucking  _finally_ I had some alone time with him. 

The door closes behind us and I watch Stephen walk through the lounge. Everything about him puts me on edge in the best way possible. His eyes, his lips, his hair, his thighs, him. It's all just  _him, him, him_. 

It takes me a good second to process this before I launch myself onto Stephen. My arms snake around his waist and I start to pepper kisses along his neck. Stephen gasps and his hands reach for mine as I quickly locate his sweet-spot. 

"Fuck, Will. You—" He exhales softly—"You've been so clingy all day. What's up?" Stephen stutters out and I'm losing it. My sanity is just gone and it's all his fault. 

"It's not wrong to want to make sure my boyfriend feel loved for Christmas, is it?" I remove my mouth from Stephen's neck and instead move my attention to his earlobe. I see him bite down on his lip and I could take him right here; I swear to God I could. 

"No... Not at all. Just not in front of the mates. Please?" His voice is breathy and I feel a familiar warmth roaming along my lower-stomach. 

"They're not around now, are they?" Stephen shudders beneath me. 

"Will—" 

I shush him, spreading my hand out along his stomach. I resume my attack, this time pressing butterfly kisses against Stephen's jaw before taking the skin between my teeth. Stephen hisses, 

"Please no biting," He rushes out. I hum in response—  _Anything for you_.— and continue to nurse his jaw. His little whines are turning me on like nobody's business and I'm left slowly grinding into Stephen's behind. 

Stephen laughs, as if something's funny, and tilts his head back. A whole new area is put on show and I take no time in attaching my mouth to his throat. 

"Fuck, Will. It's like you haven't seen me in months," Stephen comments. I can feel the vibrations in his throat through my lips and smile to myself. All mine. I don't reply to him. I feel no need to as I stop attending to his throat and decide to instead trail kisses all along his neck. "I don't get you sometimes," Stephen concludes. 

Except, it's simple really. The longer you expect me to act normal around Stephen, the more I want to kiss him. The more I want to run my hands through his hair. The more I want to love him. 

Out of nowhere, there's a knock on the door and _I swear to fuck!_

Stephen leaps from my grip and I quickly busy myself with straightening my hoodie, back turned to the entrance. The door opens and I don't need to face the culprit to recognize him. 

"We're heading out now." Brian. Who else would it be? 

"Oh. Okay." Stephen answers. I glance over at the ginger. His whole face is flushed a deep red and there's a hickey visible along his jawline. I don't bother turning around. 

Eventually, I hear footsteps recede through the hall and meet Stephen's gaze. He's panicked. He's scared. 

"That's exactly what I meant by not in front of the lads. This isn't some _joke_!" He bristles, hugging his arms to his torso. His words sting more than they should. I open my mouth to speak, but think better of it. I settle on a meek, "Sorry," which doesn't exactly settle his nerves, but is all I can really provide. How can he expect me to keep my hands off him? 

God. I'm an actual clingy teenager, aren't I? 

"I'm _really_ sorry." I add, hoping for some sympathy from Stephen. He doesn't reveal anything and I sigh and grab my scarf from the sofa. I hold it out towards him. Stephen hesitates with a look of confusion written across his face. "Said you lost your scarf." I explain, shaking the garment. Stephen nods and mutters an _'oh yeah'_ before taking it from me and wrapping it around his neck. I notice it actually manages to hide his hickey and smile at my unintended genius. 

A decent distance away from each other, we head down to Alex and Fraser's flat. 

— — 

The chill air flushes my cheeks pink and snow falls gently from the sky. The sun is sinking into the earth as my mates and I trudge through the streets. Brian mentioned that he knew a decent pub nearby and we all took him up on this. I've placed myself towards the front of the group while Stephen hangs behind. It was his idea, the fucking bastard. "To avoid suspicion." 

Little too late for that innit? 

I don't hold it against him, though. Don't want to push his boundaries. That never goes well. 

In no time we reach the bar. Christmas lights are hung from the overhang and cheesy figurines line the windows. Strange time of year, really. 

"C'mon in lads," Brian welcomes, opening the door. We all file in and are greeted by a warm room. The bar itself stands at the far wall. Hung all along and above the counter are a long strings of Christmas garland. There are a fair few people in the shop, especially so considering the time of year. Some occupy the many tables surrounding the room while other's sit at the counter. 

We sidle up to said counter where a man stands, serving drinks down the line. He looks up when we approach and nods our way. "What'cha after boys?" 

We all list off our orders without trouble, the bar-tender jotting down our preferences on his notepad. Then it's Stephen's turn. He taps his fingers along his chin, scanning over the menu. 

"Could I see your ID, sir?" 

Stephen looks up from the menu and laughter erupts from the group. Every time we go out, without fail, Stephen is asked for his ID. It's something of a running gag between us lot. 

"Yeah, I should have it with me," Stephen replies, fishing for his wallet from his back pocket. Except, he shows up empty handed. His face falls and he searches the other pocket, coming up with similar results. Front pockets heed no reward neither. 

This. This is comedy. 

Stephen's face flushes as the group hollers with laughter. "I swear to God I'm legal. It's Christmas, come on!" Stephen pleads. 

"Sorry, mate. I could get you something else?" Stephen drags his hand down his face and mutters something inaudible. Our laughter has turned into small snickers by now and Stephen decides to order a hot chocolate and some dish I can't be bothered to remember. 

Altogether we find a U-shaped booth shoved against the wall and take out seats along it. I don't let Stephen get away with sitting away from me this time. After he slips off his jacket, I make a point to seize his collar and drag him into the booth with me before anyone can look our way. As Stephen plops down on the cushioned seat, he glowers at me and I supply a toothy grin. 

The night proceeds as regular. We all share conversation and laughs and eventually, the waitress arrives with our beverages and finally dinner. She needs to return several times to serve our entire table and I detect some wary glances shared between her and Brian. It's her final trip when she drops a note in front of him and I laugh. 

"When she off then?" I ask, taking my first bites of my meal. Brian lets out a halfhearted chuckle, 

"Don't you worry 'bout it. None of your business," There's an edge of hostility to Brian's tone and I gulp back whatever dumb comment I'd planned. Oh, he knows. He knows alright. 

I notice Stephen stiffen next to me and it's instinct to rest my hand on his thigh. The small gesture is hidden by the table and we continue to eat like nothing had ever occurred. 

It doesn't take long for us to finish our meals and from then on our chatter escalates and becomes more than just Laurence rattling off about some article he saw online. It's then that everyone also begins drinking more heavily. James orders over some shots at one point, but I can't be too sure as I down the petite glass of vodka without thinking. 

Brian announces that he's leaving for the night and wishes everyone a happy holidays, but it's obvious he's just meeting up with that waitress as he exits through the back-door. Maybe it's our friendship group in general that has trouble hiding secrets. Wait, no. Alex. 

There's a comfortable buzz in the air and I'm entirely enthralled in Laurence's explanation of his girlfriend's fear of plushies when an unfamiliar weight deposits itself onto my leg. When I look over, I realize that this is actually Stephen's leg. I do a double-take. 

Stephen. The Stephen that doesn't want any of our mates to know about us has draped his leg over mine. He's not drunk. All he's had to drink is his hot chocolate, for fuck's sake. I stare at Stephen until his eyes meet my own. I furrow my brows in question and smooth my hand over his thigh in-case he misinterprets my message. Stephen, in reply, pops a grin and leans closer to my ear. 

"We're all going to be hammered by the end of tonight. Fuck 'em." Stephen explains. My lips curve upwards. Fucking finally. I repeat his words in my head and I laugh. 

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid not all of us are going to be hammered, Ste." I remark, voice still hushed. Stephen rolls his eyes and reaches forward to grab my pint. Before I can make any action to stop this, Stephen tips the liquid down his throat. He lays the drink back onto the table and it's my turn to scowl at the man. 

" _Stephen!_ " I whine, but a smile eventually creeps onto my face at the sight of my significant other smacking his lips at the taste. 

"What's that?" Stephen asks, referencing my drink. 

"Fucking scotch, mate. My scotch at that. Keep your muggy hands off." I reply, holding my beverage closer to my chest. Stephen snorts at this. 

"Tastes off," He comments, shifting to out-right sit on my leg. I promptly snake my arm around his waist. 

"Well, no wonder! You've been chugging hot cocoa all night." Stephen chuckles. He tosses his head back to rest on my shoulder. 

"I have not been chugging hot cocoa. Hot chocolate, now that's debatable." He retorts. I laugh and roll my eyes, beginning to fiddle with the hemline of Stephen's shirt. 

"What's the difference." I say. 

"Hot chocolate is actually decent without anything added, while hot cocoa is tasteless and bitter if you drink it on it's own. Kinda like our relationship, innit?" Stephen exclaims, tilting his head so he can meet my gaze. I laugh. 

"You fucking prick." I sigh, taking a sip of my liquor. 

"Oh, come off it, Will!" Stephen says, "How d'you know I'm not the hot cocoa?" I shake my head and focus back onto the conversation at the table. 

Laurence has his phone out and is—from what I can tell— recording Alex and Fraser across the table. They're going on about some nonsense and without context, I'm bewildered at their musings. James is sat next to me, laughing profusely. 

No one will notice then. And like Stephen said, we'll all be hammered come the morning. 

"Because you're Stephen Lawson. That's why," I say, gently pecking his forehead. Stephen exhales softly and a grin protrudes on both of our faces. I want nothing more in that moment than to whisk him off to my flat and cuddle until morning arrives, then spoil him like he's a goddamn king. 

"I mean, you got me there." Stephen murmurs and nuzzles his nose into my neck. I only notice Laurence's phone briefly focus on us when it's too late, but I'm too contented to let it bother me. 

A pair of lovesick fools, we are.


End file.
